I was born in Stratford, Ontario and grew up on a farm near Woodstock. One would think, being so close to the Stratford Festival, that I would have been indoctrinated in the sacred works of Shakespeare, but alas, it was not so. Instead I absorbed anything that was different. You see, I was trapped on a farm, and the only thing to do besides milk cows and shovel manure was read.
So it began: mystery, fantasy, science fiction, horror. The more bizarre, the better. I started with my own library of Nancy Drew mysteries and worked my way through Stephen King. Only the Star Trek series and Battlestar Galactica - believe it or not - drew me away from my books.
In Grade Eight, my writing career began. My teacher loved my sarcastic verbiage, so much so that I began to contemplate it seriously. Unfortunately, high school happened - that painful adolescent nightmare. The dark phase. I lost my way and ended up getting a degree in science at the University of Ottawa. Ten years passed before I picked up the pen again. I wandered through a very unsatisfactory career in nursing and later as a dialysis technician until I began to tap on the keys and found my rhythm back.
Fortunately, throughout my lost years, I had a very happy marriage and two spoiled, but lovely, children. We all share the same interests - a good story and a fascination for the natural world. Exploring that world is our true passion, especially in the unspoiled wilderness of Algonquin Park.
When I began writing again, I started with short fiction, but soon found that my stories were growing exponentially. Writing colleagues pointed out that everything I created sounded like a novel. It soon became clear that that was what I was - a novelist. So I wrote a couple of science fiction novels and a horror novel - both neatly packed away in the back of my filing cabinet. Ice Tomb was probably the most difficult novel I've ever written, but it was instantly snatched up by a publisher while the others were just added to a file I poignantly call 'Those Blasted Rejections.' The research involved took me deep into my worst nightmare - physics - and right up to heaven - Space, the final frontier. It took me to the coldest corner of the earth and had me digging through the deepest NASA files. It had me standing beside the 363-foot Saturn V rocket, and I knew, at that moment, it was where I was meant to be.
Having children, though, meant I had to read Curious George and Dr. Seuss. When Harry Potter came along, I was in seventh heaven. Even though my daughter was only in the second grade at the time, she had to learn to read this. We started small - she would read a sentence or two and I would read the rest of the very long chapters until my voice was hoarse. But it sparked a love for reading in her that George had never done. So I thought, why not some children's SciFi?
The Time Meddlers was born from the ashes of Curious George. No, I didn't really burn the books! What a concept - a time travel series that shows history as an exciting adventure, not as I learned it, a monotonous drone from the lips of my history teacher. And I could insert some quantum theory in as well. Heck, I didn't study all that physics for nothing. I found I liked writing for children so much that I joined the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. Within this organization I found friendship and constant support for my writing endeavours. But I was also a SciFi writer, and through the one organization, the other found me. I was invited to join SFCanada, another super group of writers that share the same interests. I would encourage anyone starting their careers in writing to seek out these organizations.
One final thought. People always ask me where I get my ideas. Writing isn't rocket science - well, some of it is - and there are ideas in everything we do and see. I can read a certain story and an idea will pop into my head, or I just look around my neighbourhood at relationships and values of different individuals, and there are certain aspects of my characters. My life experience is a vast storehouse. Every new theory or breakthrough in the scientific community is rife with ideas. What makes an idea a story is how it grows. Ice Tomb was an idea for two years before I made it a reality. It had to grow in my mind, through a few sleepless nights, until it finally blossomed into a novel. Sleepless nights, although torturous, are fundamental to growth of my ideas. So maybe next time you have this great idea, and you can't sleep, don't take a pill.